


Relenting

by CourtingDisaster



Series: GOT Season 8 Fix-Its [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, The Bang That was Promised, possible spoilers for 8x04, post 8x03, post battle celebrations, these fucking two, tormund's a good guy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-23 19:54:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18708895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CourtingDisaster/pseuds/CourtingDisaster
Summary: “You’re warming up to me,” Tormund said.“You’re a…unique person,” she replied. “Please excuse me, I’d like to go to bed.”“I could go, too—” he started, and Jaime felt his whole body go cold. But Brienne gave Tormund a hard look and shook her head, and the Wilding chuckled and nodded.“Is it because of the other one? The pretty man who tapped you on the shoulders with his sword?”“Ser Jaime?” Brienne asked in a wavering voice, and this time Jaime had the pleasure of watching her face flood with color. “I…I…”“You want him,” Tormund said.





	Relenting

**Author's Note:**

> So that reddit leak got me all hyped up. I swear I'm going to answer comments soon (sorry, between my toddler and new fic ideas I've been neglectful).
> 
> This is my first real foray into writing sex and man it is REALLY difficult. So I wanted to say thank you to all the smut-writers out there because it is not easy!!
> 
> Hope you enjoy <3

The Battle of Winterfell was over, and the sun had risen again after the Long Night. The dead had been gathered and burned, the injured tended to and the survivors washed and fed. Tonight, the North would celebrate.

They didn’t have enough provisions for a true feast—winter was here, after all—but the kitchen fires had blazed hot two days as the cooks prepared what they could. People had woken up in a celebratory mood, and the drinking had started early. Games had been played in the snowy baileys, and inside people had stuffed themselves full. Now that the tables had been pushed back, singing and dancing had begun.

Jaime watched it all with a vague smile. He was grateful to be alive—euphoric even, since Brienne, Tyrion and Podrick had all survived as well—but he didn’t feel the need to join in the revels. He savored his mulled wine and watched as the younger men and women spun each other around on the floor, delighted with the breath in their bodies.

“I always though the Northmen too dignified to dance,” Tyrion said. Jaime glanced down at his brother.

“And I always assumed it was because they’d lost all their toes to frostbite,” he replied, and smiled when Tyrion snorted into his goblet.

“I’m not so sure you’re wrong. They’re flopping about out there like dying fish.”

Jaime nodded and ran his eyes through the crowd again. Brienne was here, somewhere. He’d sat with her at the feast, but when they’d all left the benches and the tables had been moved, he’d lost track of her.

“Don’t worry,” Tyrion added, giving his brother a slight eye roll, “I’m sure she isn’t far. She never really leaves your side.”

“Who?” Jaime asked, but he must not have been very convincing because Tyrion stared at him in frank disbelief.

“You know very well who, brother,” he said, “and you’re not fooling anyone.”

Jaime lifted his goblet to his mouth just to avoid answering, but he forced himself to stop scanning the Great Hall for her. Perhaps she’d find him in this throng of drunken idiots; she was taller than him, after all.

Pod reeled toward them out of the crowd. He was bright red and wore a huge, blurry grin. _The mead’s been more at him than he’s been at the mead,_ Jaime thought with a smile. It would hurt come morning, but he was happy to see the lad was enjoying himself to the fullest.

“Won a singing competition,” the squire told them. “Lady Sansa gave me a…gave me a kiss on the cheek and a purse of gold.”

“Well done, Pod,” Tyrion said, grinning with real affection. “A prize worth winning. Where is the fair lady of the castle?”

“By…by…” Pod gestured vaguely toward a circle of people near the fireplace behind the high table, and Tyrion turned to Jaime to make his excuses.

“And you say I’m the obvious one,” Jaime quipped. “Give Lady Sansa my highest regards.”

Tyrion lifted his goblet in a toast to his brother, completely unembarrassed by his obvious interest in Sansa. “I shall, and I hope you find your lady knight.”

Then he was gone, weaving his way through the crowd on his way across the hall, and Jaime was left with Pod. The boy was listing a little to the left, then he overcorrected by leaning hard to the right, but he was forced he had to shuffle his feet to keep from losing balance, and Jaime grabbed his elbow to keep him from going ass over teakettle.

“I don’t envy you the hangover,” he said, but Pod only smiled at him as though he’d spoken in Dothraki. “Have you seen our lady knight?”

“Ser—Ser M’Lady?” Pod’s smile widened even further. “Yes Ser, I saw her. She was with Lady Sansssa, but she…but sheeee…?”

It was amusing and ever so slightly frustrating to watch the boy try to puzzle out what had happened next, but at last he seemed to remember.

“The big man! Red head, giant milk man…he found her and asked her to walk with him.” Pod looked so proud of himself for remembering that Jaime patted him on the shoulder in spite of the sudden queasiness in his gut.

“Try to remember to eat something before you go to sleep, alright? I’m going to go find Lady Brienne.”

“ _Ser_ Brienne,” Pod corrected with a slight hiccup, and Jaime fought back a smirk.

“Ser Brienne,” he agreed. Then he turned and began pushing his way toward the doors. It was a big castle and Tormund might have taken Brienne anywhere, but he’d rather be searching for her than watching everyone else get too drunk to stand anyway.

Compared to the Great Hall, the passageways of Winterfell were near silent. For the celebration, all the torches in the main keep had been lit, and he wandered through the warm corridors trying to understand why Brienne being alone with Tormund bothered him.

Well, besides the obvious.

He heard them before he saw them. Tormund’s enthusiastic rumbling and Brienne’s firmer tones. He came around a corner in a passageway and there they were, far too near to Brienne’s chambers than Jaime would have liked. The sinking feeling in his chest got worse when he saw how the Wilding was leaning into Brienne. He had one hand on the stone wall and his other still clutched a horn of that fermented milk he so enjoyed, and his entire upper body was canted toward the lady knight. Jaime couldn’t see his face, but he could tell just from the body language that his familiar leering smile was on full display. Brienne wasn’t quite pinned against the wall, but Tormund hadn’t left her much room. He asked her something, low and suggestive, but she shook her head.

“You’re warming up to me,” he said.

“You’re a…unique person,” she replied. “Please excuse me, I’d like to go to bed.”

“I could go, too—” he started, and Jaime felt his whole body go cold. But Brienne gave Tormund a hard look and shook her head, and the Wilding chuckled and nodded.

“Is it because of the other one? The pretty man who tapped you on the shoulders with his sword?”

“Ser Jaime?” Brienne asked in a wavering voice, and this time Jaime had the pleasure of watching her face flood with color. “I…I…”

“You want him,” Tormund said.

“It’s not that simple,” she protested, and Tormund scoffed.

“Why not? A woman like you, it should be easy to get what you want. Easy for you to take it.”

Brienne looked down at her feet, her cheeks still flaming red. “I…I care for Ser Jaime very much, but he…he wouldn’t have me if I asked.”

Tormund paused for a moment, then he pushed away from the wall. He placed his hand on Brienne’s shoulder and she looked up at him with tears dancing in those glorious eyes.

“Yes,” he said, soft but sure, “he would.”

Then he let go of her and walked away from them both. Jaime watched him go in silence, absurdly grateful for the Wildling for the first time outside of battle. His body felt as though he was vibrating with energy. Hope and nervousness were spinning inside of him like a vortex, mixing together and making one hard to tell from the other. He watched as Brienne went into her bedchamber and closed the door while his own feet remained rooted to the floor of the passageway.

 _Don’t leave her in there alone,_ he told himself. _Don’t let her doubt herself or you any longer._ He moved forward to knock.

She opened the door a second later. The tears were gone but her eyes were still luminous, and they sucked him in as they always did. He felt his fist tighten at his side as the apprehension peaked, and he forced himself to relax as best he could.

“Ser Jaime.” She blinked at him. “I…I was about to retire.”

“Ser Brienne,” he replied with a faint smile. “Are you truly retiring so soon? Tonight is for celebration.”

She fumbled, searching for some answer to give him, and then jumped when he reached out and cupped her face in his hand. His thumb swept back and forth over her cheek as he held her gaze.

“I want to celebrate _you_ , Brienne. Your honor, your courage, your prowess on the battlefield. I wanted to show you how much I love and admire you, but before I could find you, you’d disappeared.”

“I was tired and—” Brienne started, then she stopped dead. Her eyes went wide as she realized what he’d just said. “Love and admire?” she repeated, almost stuttering.

Jaime grinned at her, though his heart was hammering with fear because she might send him away at any moment.

“Yes,” he replied, “above all others.”

“But…” He could see the doubt in her, almost hear the name she was thinking, and he stared hard into her eyes.

“ _All_ others, Brienne.”

She sucked in a breath and he braced himself for rejection, but instead she reached out, grasped the front of his tunic and pulled him into her room. He nearly staggered into her in shock, but he used the opportunity to wrap his arms around her.

“Jaime—” She seemed on the verge of saying something, but then she shook her head and pressed her mouth to his.

It didn’t take him long to coax her mouth open, and then she was truly melting into his arms. She was so eager, her normal resolve disappearing as need took over. He realized with a sudden flush of heat that she must have imagined this before, a thought that made him groan out loud as he moved his mouth to her neck. He’d meant to slow it all down, but she was kissing him like she didn’t think she’d ever get the chance to again, and he’d fought down his own desire for so long that his control was already close to slipping.

She pulled back to yank off her own tunic, then she tugged his off as well, and he paused to drink in the sight of her. A flush spread across her chest and up her neck as she stood there watching him look at her. Tenderness bloomed in him: he knew how self-conscious she was, but she didn’t try to hide herself from his gaze. She was proving her trust in him once again, and it was up to him to honor that trust.

He reached out with his trembling left hand and pulled her back to him so he could kiss her again.

“Bed,” he said softly, and she nodded and moved with him there. They sank down into the lush furs and she helped him remove his clothes, her hands pulling so eagerly at the garments that he had to grin. Then she helped him unbuckle his golden hand, before removing the last of her own clothes, until at last it was only them in the bed.

He was aching for her, his cock throbbing with need as her fingers traced over his bare skin. He wanted to give her as much time to explore him as she wanted, but it was hard to lay passive when there were so many delicious bits of her he wanted to discover in return. He shivered as her fingers ran over his stomach and responded by leaning up and capturing her nipple in his mouth. Her gasp was music to his ears, but she turned the tables quickly: her hand wrapped around his cock and it was his turn to writhe. A few strokes later and he was almost begging her to stop.

“Not like that, not this time,” he managed, surprised at how raw his voice was. Gods, he needed her, she had _no idea._

“This time?” she echoed, and he kissed her again.

“You can have me whenever you want, I promise.” Then he rolled on top of her and began his own exploration, touching and kissing her, pausing in places that made her moan or arch.

“ _Please,”_ she breathed, pulling his mouth back to hers. He gripped her hip and sank into her, groaning as she arched to pull him in deeper. Then those incredible legs of hers wrapped around him and he began a slow, torturous rhythm of thrusts. He could see the surprise on her face as he pushed in the first time, the newness of the feeling turning quickly to hunger as he moved, and then she was writhing underneath him, trying to match his movements with her own.

His hand left her hip and slid down between them. The moment his fingers brushed her clit she arched hard, gasping for breath, so deliciously responsive that he almost lost control right then.

“More,” she panted. _Gladly,_ he thought as he continued to tease her clit with his fingers. A few thrusts more and she came apart in his arms, gasping his name and squeezing tight around his cock until he followed her over the edge.

When he could control his body again, he wrapped his arms around her, moving so they were lying side by side in each other’s embrace. She pulled the furs up over them as their bodies cooled, still shaky from her own orgasm. He buried his face in her neck and thought that’d he’d finally come home.

“I love you, Jaime,” she said. She didn’t seem sure now of what to do with her hands, but after a moment she began running her fingers through his hair. He sighed happily, feeling lighter and more complete than he had since he was a child.

“Would you accept a tired old lion as your husband?” he asked, running his hand up and down her back.

“Marriage?” She pulled back a little to look at him.

“Oh yes—marriage, kids, grandkids. I want all of it,” he replied. “If not, I’ll still happily live out my days as your sworn sword, but I do think my way sounds a bit more fun.”

She shoved at his shoulder, but gently. For a long time, neither of them spoke, but it wasn’t a silence fraught with tension or things left unspoken for once. He simply waited, happy to be near her in whatever way she wanted him to be, his heart already full to the bursting with the knowledge that she accepted his love and loved him back in return.

“Yes,” she said at last, “I’ll marry you. It would be my honor.”

“Oh, no,” he said as he pressed another kiss to her lips, “the honor is definitely mine, my lady—the honor and the pleasure.”

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU <33333


End file.
